


Prejeverse Drabbles, One-shots, and Abandoned Works

by Anarchy_Axe



Category: Jeverse, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Bad ass bad guys, Drabble Collection, F/M, Incomplete works, Inspired by Escape the Night, Kevin is a simp, M/M, Min is a little shit, More Chapters to Be Added, One Shot Collection, alternate universe - wild west
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29062863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchy_Axe/pseuds/Anarchy_Axe
Summary: A collection of Prejverse AU's and works that never saw the light of day, or otherwise got abandoned. Hope you can enjoy them!
Relationships: Bryce Bulte & Kevin Roblejo, Jenna Johal & Archana Nadar, Jenna Johal/Kevin Roblejo, Min Zhang & Bryce Bulte, Min Zhang & Jenna Johal, Min Zhang & Kevin Roblejo, Nathan Cantu/Robert Hitchcock





	1. One-Shot: The Dragon Eye Insignia

_‘Ah,’_ Min mused to themselves, flicking the ash from their cig. _‘The things I do for money.’_ They sighed heavily, letting their head hang down as they leaned back onto the cold metal of the community bike rack. Through their dark hair Min glared at the bright neon sign of the strip club, scowling at the enthusiastic line of party-goers, half looking much too plastered to be within walking distance of more alcohol.

They heaved themselves up with a groan, absentmindedly flicking their cig onto a nearby ashtray while they fiddled with the earpiece with one hand. The cool plastic was silent at the moment, and without much hesitation Min ruffled their cropped hair to further conceal it. From their pocket they pulled a glossy cream-colored card, a black dragon eye insignia glaring up at the Agent. Grimacing, they flipped the card, the address listed winking up at them teasingly. It taunted Min to step inside the club. 

As they walked across the street to the club’s doors, they muttered the details of their mission like a mantra, steeling themselves for the high-risk environment they were preparing themselves to enter. Alone and without backup, their partners having had a mission switch last minute. 

“Sure sure, leave me with the high profile target, fucking assholes, the both of them,” They swore, squaring their shoulders.

Min approached the club’s doors silently, warily eyeing the queue of horny and tipsy people. They popped the collar of their jacket nervously and stepped into the line, one hand tracing the sharp edge of the card methodically. They steeled themselves against jolting when their earpiece crackled to life. _“Eyes on him yet?”_ the Agent on the other end muttered, the clicking of keys following their words. 

Min hummed and continued to follow the throng of people, flashing their ID when they reached the bouncer. After getting nodded inside, they immediately groaned at the ambiance. The music throbbed and vibrated the club, bass thundered at the back off their head, promising a headache later. The air felt oppressive, hot, heedy and full of sweaty bodies. Min shouldered through the throng of people, lip curling as someone nearly spilt their drink on them. They reached the bar with an almost desperate air, gripping the smooth countertop tightly. The wood was a rich brown color, the upkeep giving a distinctly modern and expensive look, contrasting the rest of the club. Min took a measured breath and sat down onto the barstool. The barmaid caught Min’s eye and slid them a cardboard coaster, smiling politely. 

Min tapped the countertop in an attempt to center themselves, feigning nonchalance as they looked over the crowd, resolutely ignoring the three dancers on stage. No one caught their eye, and after a moment, they huffed and turned back to the barmaid. 

She was looking expectantly at Min. “What can I get you?” She asked, hands reaching for a glass. 

Min thumbed the card in their pocket before replying, “One Atomic Cat is fine, thank you,” the barmaid nodded and prepared the drink, setting it down on Min’s coaster with a flourish. 

_“Signal 332?”_ The Agent on the other end murmured, startling Min into nearly dropping their mocktail. 

“Nothin yet Jen,” Min whispered under their breath, fingers wrapped around the glass tightly, darting nervous glances to various suspicious folks. Jen’s reply was drowned out as the crowd surrounding the stage screamed, a dancer must've stripped further down. 

Time dragged on slowly after that, the dancers on stage finishing their routine and swiftly being replaced by loud music. Something sensual and pop growled overhead, blue and purple lights washing the party-goers in their hues. The air reeked of sweat and the heavy taste of hard liquor, it stuck to Min’s skin and made them feel clammy. The suit jacket didn’t help matters. Min was getting fidgety, someone’s life was on the line and here they were, at the seediest club in Nirith, waiting for someone who might not even _be_ here.

They chugged the last of their drink mournfully. “Money Min, money is super sexy. You’re doing this for the money.” They lectured themself, eyes thrown to the ceiling with distaste. _‘And for_ her, _you greedy asshole,’_

Someone laughed from their left. “You sound like me before a set,” Min jolted and stared blankly at the stranger. He swirled a Dr. Pepper in his hand, an easy smile playing on his face. 

“Uh, sorry?” 

The stranger chuckled, sipping his drink. “Whateva’ you’re convincing yourself to do, money better not be the only reason you’re doing it,” he sighed and shot the stage a fond look. “Gotta have some other motive there mate.” 

Min nodded, albeit confusedly. “Right.”

The man grinned at Min, extending a gloved hand. “Name’s Elijah,” he laughed to himself then, almost as if he was remembering a joke. 

“Beau,” Min huffed somewhat awkwardly, tacking on their favorite ‘fake name’ they used during missions. Elijah grinned, taking another swig. Min was positive the awkwardness would kill them any second, one hand tracing the card while the other tapped the table. “So, uh,” _‘God,’_ Min wanted to facepalm. “You’re, ah, a dancer here?” 

Elijah laughed at the hesitant tone and nodded casually. “Yuh, I started maybe six or so months ago? I work weekends mostly.” Something was niggling at the back of Min’s head, but they chose to brush it aside. 

“Today’s Thursday though,” Min leaned back, trying to replicate the nonchalant air. They honestly didn’t think they had time to fuck around with this guy, but they _did_ need to loosen up, if for nothing else than to blend in. 

“That it is. Money however, is _super_ sexy,” Elijah teased, something almost mean in his eyes. Min let out a dry laugh, playing with their honey-colored tie. The dancer ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it even more. “Honestly though, bills are a bitch to manage, even with my other job.” 

Min felt a pang of sympathy and offered a small smile. “I get that, I’m sure things’ll look up soon for you though.” Elijah huffed lightly, eyebrows pinched. 

“I do have a job lined up though, I’m thinking it’ll hold me over for a while,” he replied almost casually, something off about his tone. Min tracked the way his hand had clenched around the soda can, suddenly feeling wary. 

Elijah shook himself slightly and scratched at a scar on his cheek, offering an apologetic glance to Min. “Sorry about that, I dunno why I’m telling you all this, how about I buy you a drink?” the sudden mood switch set off dozens of alarm bells for Min. The bass-induced headache was starting to come full force, spurred on by their growing apprehension.

They tapped the counter and forced out a ghost of a laugh. “Ah, I’m not much of a drinker,” and at his insistence, they stood up briskly. “It’s been nice chatting,” They waved the barmaid over, hastily signaling for the check. “But I do think it’s time for me to go,” with a quick flick of their wrist, they signed their bill and made to leave. From their ear, Jenna offered a concerned hum.

Elijah narrowed his eyes, head tilted to the side. “Aw well, it was certainly nice meeting you _Beau_ ,” he mused, voice saccharine. Min gave a hasty nod before attempting to set off, collection money be damned. “Oh, wait, I have something for you!” Elijah sounded excited, something dark flickering in his eyes. He was washed out in reds, the club lights casting him in an almost demonic glow. 

“Uh, no thank you, really.” Min shouldered past him, cursing the Agency, cursing Jenna, and cursing Bryant and Alistar for ditching them. Elijah grabbed their wrist, gripping with a painfully tight grip. 

“I think you’d want this _Agent_.” He growled, voice deserted of any intonation. Min shot them a panicked look; Jenna’s frantic voice crackling in their ear, asking for updates. His face was a perfectly crafted look of casual excitement, more akin to a friend chatting with a peer. He pressed something into their hands, a grin flashing before they released them, stepping back and vanishing into the club. 

Min felt the ground fall under their feet in horror as they stared down at the card in their hand. The black symbol printed on it, almost burning them. “Jenna?” Min croaked, eyes readed and re-reading the letters.

_"Min what’s going on? I heard someone call you Agent? Have you been discovered?”_ Jenna sounded panicked, but none of it was reaching the chilled stupor of the Agent. 

Without looking up, they replied with a hoarse “What's the target’s description?”

_“Uh dark eyes, brown or artificially black. Brown hair, tall, maybe 6 ft, 6ft 1, and lithe. A scar on his cheek. Why, what happened?”_

Min swore and raced out the club, hand clutched tight around the card, on which a single link was printed in red ink. Jenna began to speak up, before she cut out completely. 

Through their earpiece, someone’s awfully familiar voice crooned. 

_“Rubrum locus.”_


	2. Abandoned Work- Falling Through the Universe: Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a quest to avenge their friends, a young fighter encounters someone who cracks them a deal, one they cannot refuse, the resurrection of their lost friends.

The wind brought harsh daggers of sand cascading over a stocky figure, stinging their eyes and the various shallow abrasions that littered their skin like pockmarks. They panted heavily, one hand gripping a double sided axe with white knuckles, the other shielding their eyes from the glare of the west-setting-sun. They adjusted the thick coal fur that lined the neck of their cape, its ends torn to shreds. 

Before them lay a creature of towering and rippling size. It easily reached taller than a quarter of the mountain it resided on, weighed nearly as much. The person was not swayed however, eyes dark and lips pulled in a snarl ripe with tar-like rage. It shook them with the intensity of an earth-tremor, every inch of their armor-laden body trembling with torrents of vengeance. They took a step forward, desert colored boots scuffed and ripped to hell. Scars lined their muscled arms, dingy wrappings and peeling bandages covering rust colored patches of skin. 

Months upon months made the sight before them all the more painful, almost nostalgic for something they had strived all their life for. What they would give for everyone to see it. They could almost feel it, the way some would clammer and gape, others draw their weapons, ready to conquer the ultimate quest. 

“I‘ve found you,” they spit the words with acid, eyebrows drawn. Something akin to mania pulled their lips into a sneer, although there was no arrogance behind it. 

The creature looked inquisitive, although it had no head, it seemed to tilt the space where it’s glowing eyes stood, not dissimilar to that of a curious wolf-dog. When it spoke, it was not through spoken words, unlike any language the caped-person had ever heard of. It rumbled, sending its tone through the pulses and vibrations it caused, its “voice” echoing loudly in the person’s head. 

**[I have not been hidden, nor have I moved from my place of rest for many sun-cycles. You, simple hunter, have merely been allowed my council.]**

The hunter snarled, teeth gnashing as they suppressed a flinch. They ripped the cloak from their body and let it fall. The armored chestpiece they wore underneath was torn at the abdomen, exposing hard muscles, unevenly tanned and lined with scars. They grabbed a second axe, it’s handle much longer, meant for someone taller, holding both in each calloused hand. 

“I’m going to kill you.” Their eyes were flint hitting metal, sparks of ignited fury glowing like embers. As they spoke, the whites of their eyes darkening into a glittering inky black. From their discarded cloak a pouch came undone, several small trinkets clinking gently onto the flat stones that made up the clearing. 

The creature rumbled with something akin to laughter. **[You will not succeed.]** It shifted in place, something akin to pity rolling off of it in cascading waves. 

“You’re awfully arrogant for someone who's about to be a head-mount,” a sneer pulled at their lips.

 **[And what of your brothers?]** The question was laced with an edge of mockery, and rooted the hunter in their tracks. Their face paled several shades and their knees buckled faintly. Only hard habit kept the dual axe’s in their grip.

They craned their head to look up at the creature. “W-What?” They croaked. Their eyes flashed to white, the remnants of their power leaking from the corners. 

The creature grinned. **[They have passed.]** There was no inflection, the toneless rumble merely stating a fact. The hunter trembled where they stood, surprising themselves when hot angry tears welled up in their brown eyes. **[They have passed. And was it not your own doing?]**

“Shut up.” Their voice was hoarse, eyes squeezed shut.

**[Creatures such as yourself are truly the monsters. Those who seek glory and fame over the intimate moments with their kin.]**

_“Shut up,”_ their voice wobbled and hitched, tremors wracking their hands. 

The creature did not quiet down, instead leaning in closer, its booming voice echoing around the hunter in maddening circles, taunting and sharp, but telling no lies. The hunter felt bare, their soul stripped and laid at their feet to crack in the darkening sky. They had dropped to their knees at one point, weapons forgotten. They scrabbled at their chest, a wail threatening to scrape out from their clenched lungs, a pained groan escaping instead from their barred teeth. The creature was incessant, leering with sickening words, events impossible for it to know seeping up from the ground, dripping from the sky like hail, clouding the air to choke the hunter. 

Someone was screaming, the hunter dimly realizing it was them. Their head was pressed into the stone, hands clutched over their ears and tears tracking rivulets through the dirt that blemished their face. Sharp pebbles were digging into their knees, the pain centering them. The creature had quieted somewhat, it’s anger still permeating the air. 

**[Would you change the past, if you could?]**

The hunter looked up blearily, mouth dry and throat sore. Their vision spun, and they heaved with breaths just moments from panic. “W—What?” 

**[What would you give to reverse the clock. To have your brothers by your side once more?]** The hunter looked at their hands, at the ripped gloves that were several sizes too large for them. 

Their breath trembled as they replied, “anything. _Fuck_ , gods, _anything_.” Voice thick with emotion, with loss, with guilt, with sorrow and anger. 

The creature grinned, eyes glowing. It’s presence seemed to crowd the hunter, eyes bright but full of seriousness. **[chodítko dimenze. This is my gift to you. I offer you the opportunity to fix what you have done, though I mustn’t extend it to further than a single moon-cycle]**

The hunter scanned the eyes, frustration at not being able to read them growing in them. “How is that even possible?” They asked tentatively. 

The creature regarded them heavily, before replying, **[We are all just a single version of ourselves among the millions upon millions of dimensions. All our bodies are connected by a single spirit, split delicately between universes and existing their own personal lives. I hold the ability to walk among those universes, and this curse I share to you. They will not know of you, and I cannot guarantee they will believe you. I can only guarantee they will all be alive where I send you. To get your brothers back you must make their alternative bodies remember their lives in this universe, only then will the lost fragment be awoken once more.]**

**[Do you accept?]**

“Yes.” The creature consumed them in blackness and stars. 

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

“Woah hey there! holy shit,” someone was grabbing their shoulder with a gentle but sturdy grip. Something was almost deafeningly loud, almost as loud as a raging Jeseui roan, although their trained ears also picked up on the muted sound of socked gasps and mutters, and much closer, the faint crunch of stones on stone next to their face. They felt strange, the normally present energy that flowed through them gone. They must’ve fallen from the mountain, no other way to explain it. 

They peeled their eyes open, wincing as the midday sun stabbed at them with a vengeance, and instantly shut them again. In front of them the person kept rambling, asking a waterfall of questions that they couldn’t begin to answer. Something was familiar about that voice, although they couldn’t place it. 

“Dude, I kinda need you to answer me or I’ll have to take you to the hospital,” the decidedly male voice continued, an edge of panic in their tone. 

“Hrrgl?” They tried, voice scratchy and weak. The man let out an audible sigh, relief rolling off of him in waves. They smiled to themselves, somewhat bitterly, the anxious fussing reminded them of their friend so strongly it could’ve brought tears to their eyes. 

“H-hey now, don’t cry, Mr—uh, Ms? Mx? Stranger person, please don’t cry,” they warbled from above them, the fluttering of fabric hinting at frantic movement. “I need you to look at me, dude, please?” 

Grunting, they forced themselves to sit up, a hand bracing them on what was both rough and smooth stone. They chose to ignore the odd and unfamiliar words this person was using, they must be some sort of Conjurer, those types always used odd words. They tried to open their eyes once more, glaring at their lap until their eyes focused. 

The man to their left cleared his throat, and they turned to look at him, stomach dropping as Axel raised a delicate hand to their forehead, checking their temperature. 

They paled to a pearly shade previously unknown and immediately threw up at his feet.


	3. Being Retconned- Kingdom AU: Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At seven years old, Jenna learned that being loose lipped was how you lost your life. 
> 
> At twelve, she stole a scroll that ended up saving the lives of nine women from an underground ring.
> 
> At sixteen, she pledged loyalty to the ruler Ember, the ashen smell of the decorative carpets surrounding her.
> 
> At twenty, she found her world shattered like newly made ice, senses tinged with ash. 
> 
> \---------------------------------
> 
> Jenna Johal is a hired spy for the kingdom of Karasu, and her latest mission might just prove more difficult than imagined, and not for the reasons she might have thought.

At seven years old, Jenna learned that being loose lipped was how you lost your life. 

At twelve, she stole a scroll that ended up saving the lives of nine women from an underground ring.

At sixteen, she pledged loyalty to the ruler Raven, the ashen smell of the decorative carpets surrounding her.

At twenty, she found her world shattered like newly made ice, senses tinged with ash. 

“Pardon—what?” She felt numb. Beside her, a pair of dark eyes blinked at her through vaguely hidden suspicion. A rustle of fabric tore Jenna’s eyes from where they swam on the floor, locking them to Raven’s face. 

“Do you have a plight with your assignment Lady Johal?” The smooth voice intoned as a question, but to Jenna’s ears, it hissed a warning below the surface. Swallowing thickly, she dropped her stare to her leader’s chin, hands working nervously at her sides. 

“N-no, of course not Your Leige, I was simply- ah- simply concerned with the specific tasks of this assignment?” Toward the end of her ramble, Jenna’s eyes betrayed her and she found herself once again frozen by The Ruler of Karasu’s intense stare. Said ruler leaned forward in their seat, thick black and purple fabrics shifting and pooling down their throne. They raised an eyebrow and turned to the other person in the room. 

“You are dismissed Xir Zhang” 

Jenna stared out of her peripherals at the shorter person, eyes begging for them to stay. The other paid her no mind, dipping into a deep bow and turning on their heel, exiting the discussion room swiftly and silently. Jenna wanted to scream. 

Jenna felt the nervous energy rolling off of her in waves, it was nothing short of a miracle that she stayed still. She worked herself up to answer her ruler, to tell her, _‘no, I can't go into Kinzoku and manipulate the reigning Prince for some gold and silver coins’_ but instead the words caught themselves on her throat, refusing to be heaved past the deep cavern where her heart trembled. Raven looked at her sternly and folded their hands, thumbs extended. 

“You see Jenna, your assignment is simple. You go into Kinzoku, you make the ruling power sign a treaty to form an alliance with us, and then you get out. Easy as that. It doesn’t concern me _how_ you go about obtaining their signature, I just need it in three months' time.” 

Jenna felt her nerves rolling and her mouth became suddenly dry, voice cracking as she objected. The longer she talked the more stoic and hard her leader’s face grew. They no longer leaned forward, eyes calm and cool, but sat ramrod straight and pierced through Jenna’s soul with flint irises. 

“Jenna that’s _enough_ ,” They all but hissed, thick gloved hands fisting their satin capes and extensions. The faintest tremor ghosted their arms, but the hard look in their eyes was plenty distraction for Jenna. 

“You don’t have a choice in this matter, you _will_ take on this assignment.” 

The words brought heat behind Jenna’s eyes, “Please! Why not send anyone else? Why not Zhang? They seem more than capable?” Jenna couldn’t describe the how her chest felt in that moment, the raging despair, almost like a tar, bubbling up and silencing her breath, filling her with heavy flaming agony. Every sound echoed and repeated, distorting and winding themselves around her like an out of control contortionist. This was wrong. She didn’t sign up for this, none of it. She wanted to go home.

“—nna, Jenna! Snap out of it,” two firm hands on her shoulders ripped her out of the clout of her mind. Breaths heavy, she trembled faintly as Raven regarded her with a scrunched up face of pity. They were no longer on their throne, crown haphazardly balanced on their head and clothes ruffled, as if they all but fell out of their seat. They rubbed soothing motions with their thumbs, the sensation grounding. For all her pride, Jenna took the sympathy in stride, lip wobbling before she felt herself break, and leaned into a hug, hands fisting the material of Raven's clothes. Raven kneeled silently, before returning the embrace. 

“Can anyone else do it?” Came the hoarse croak. 

“...No, it has to be you,” 

“Why? Why me?”

“People need you Sprout, do it for them, for me, please?”

“I don’t want to,”

Raven was quiet for a while, so long that Jenna nearly lifted her face from where it was buried in their neck. “We all do things we don’t want to sometimes, and—and that’s just part of life. I chose you, because I believe in you, you’re the only one who can do this—” their voice cracked, and their grip strengthened, “people are dying Sprout, they’re suffering, an-and I can’t save them, but _you_ can. Please, help them,” 

A complex feeling seeped into Jenna, a strange sense of duty, she still wasn’t ok with this, but her tears dried and she stiffly detached herself from Raven, and turned to leave, clutching at her cloak fitfully, and through the clicking of her steel toed grey boots, she swore she heard a quiet, “I'm so sorry,” 

\---------------------------------------------------------------

The door clicked shut quietly. Jenna’s stomach roiled and turned over. She had to go, and lie to someone, twist their feelings, make them question themselves, for _her_ benefit. It made her sick, she never wanted to do that, but if she was so opposed, why did she agree? And Sprout? They hadn’t called her that since, _‘since a long time’_ her mind supplied firmly. Her mind felt clouded, and with a shove, she pushed the feelings down. She needed a distraction, something to take her mind off of everything. 

Movement caught her eye, the distant figure of a retreating cloaked figure turning a corner. Mind flashing back to a pair of curious eyes set on a grim face, Jenna felt her feet speeding up as she called out to the figure. 

“Hey, wait, Zhang!” Jenna stumbled over her feet as she frantically sped after the wiry form of the other spy. _‘It is Zhang right?’_ She muttered under her breath. Zhang stiffened, before throwing a glare over their shoulder. Their dark eyes narrowed and their cloak shifted as they tensed. 

_“What?”_ The hiss glued Jenna’s feet to the smooth marble floor. She stood gaping silently, trying to decipher the swirling emotions that sloshed in the others pitch eyes, the hard lines of their form. She raised her hands placatingly, trying to stifle the growing nervousness she felt rising. 

“I just wanted to talk, s’all,” Jenna felt the waiver of her voice and inwardly facepalmed. “There’s no need to be hostile, where on the same side ok?” She shot the other a small smile, trying to snip the awkward mood in the bud. _‘I was looking for a distraction not an argument’_

It was the wrong thing to say, if Jenna was going off of Zhang’s scoff. Their face became blank then, and they seemed to forcibly relax. The look bore too much similarity to the way Raven's had looked just a mere handful of minutes ago. They turned to face Jenna and crossed their arms over their chest, the dark circles under their eyes making their stare all the more intense. 

“We may be on the same side but that means _nothing_ when you’ve cheated your way to the tops of the ranks.” The smooth quality of Zhang’s voice sent a spiral of emotions through Jenna: fear, indignation, anger, panic. 

“Hey wait, that’s not true! I haven’t cheated anyone on our side. I’m loyal to Karasu through and through.” She hoped she looked convincing. Her hands trembled, she needed to get out of here. This guy already didn’t like her for whatever reason. 

Zhang studied her curiously, eyes zigzagging across her face and down to her hands. A strange look crossed their eyes, and they sighed suddenly. Running their hands through their cropped hair, they pinched the bridge of their nose. “You’re right, sorry,” they took a few steps toward Jenna. The words felt practiced. “I’m just upset, I’ve been here a lot longer than you, and I don’t like how you’ve seemed to climb the ranks without doing as much. I shouldn’t have insinuated you’re disloyal,” 

The intonation and the literal words hit differently. On one hand, the words seemed overly polite, but there seemed to be a genuine apology in them. The intonation was off however. It was measured, careful, almost frustratingly guarded. Jenna settled on letting out a laugh, voice cracking slightly, and sheepishly scratched at the back of her neck. “S’alright I guess,” Zhang’s face pinched and they looked both very antsy and nervous. _‘Why are they nervous- did I say something?’_

“I— _fuck_ —” The foreign swear seemed to startle both of them and Jenna slapped a hand over her mouth to stop the huff of laughter. Zhang glowered at her, but this time the utter stone facedness of before was replaced with light, friendly annoyance. The switch was almost curious, but Jenna’s mind wanted to grasp onto the companionable conversation, desperately clinging to the distraction she anxiously begged for. Zhang suddenly seemed embarrassed, and Jenna sent them a curious look. 

“Min,” Zhang’s face was tipped to the floor, the word mumbled out. 

“Huh?”

“It’s Min, my name, ah, you probably didn’t want to keep calling me _Zhang_ as if I’m a superior or something—” They looked up suddenly, and their eyes got almost comically large, “U-Unless you don’t want to! You can totally keep calling me Zhang, we just met it’s super ok if you’re uncomfortable or weirded out I’m just trying to kill the mood and—” Zhan- _Min_ , looked painfully embarrassed, and for her part Jenna was trying not to kneel over from laughter, not to be rude, it was, just, such a _her_ thing to say. 

“I fucking hate it here,” Another foreign phrase, and this time Jenna did burst out laughing. The weight of earlier settled, somewhere deep within, not gone, but certainly ignorable. 

\-------------------------------------------------

 _Wet grass smell, humid and thick, earthy and almost fresh, swathing her tongue, clogging her sinuses. Her face was centimeters from the ground, sharp grass like tiny blades scored her chin, her throat, her cheek._

_A rhythmic thump thump thumping, clobbering everything in its path: the ground, the bushes, her back as she crawled desperately on her hands and knees, her pants tearing and muddying at the knees, the bandages on her left palm rumbling off like loose skin._

_Sharp stabbing agony, her shoulders, her spine, her back, her skull. It felt like stones, like pinches, like small hateful words whispered behind cupped hands and snickering eyes._

_Distant screaming, the kind of screaming that was ripped out of someone like a rotten tooth ripped out of a sore mouth. High and clear, it sent pure freezing panic washing over her._

_Wetness, everywhere. Softening the packed dirt into mud, digging tracks down her face, leaving salt to nestle in the corners of her mouth, dampening and plastering her hair to herself, sucking the rags she labeled clothing to her frail body._

_Darkness, pressing in, closing in, dancing along her vision and throwing false negatives of distorted shadows in the same way a pile of straw forms a hideous monster. Not even the grinning moon, body a thin cat scratch in the pitch sky, brought light, it’s distant twinkling companions mocking her from afar, faker than the plastic fruits that decorated the wealthy shop fronts._

_Something heavy hit her spine, pushing her into the ground, mud squelching and oozing up around her, teeth clacking and chin spearing the vicious floor. Low chuckling cut the incessant thumping and brought pure fear to rear its head._

_Cold._

_Sharp._

_Dragging._

_They’re saying something. Low crooning._

_More pressure._

_The mud bubbles past her chin._

_The thumping grows louder, like static._

_It’s freezing._

_Darkness._

_Darker._

_Numbness._

Silence. 

\------------------------------------------

Jenna stared at her ceiling, eyes tracing nonexistent patterns into the gray textures. She sighed softly, thumbing the thin covers between her fingers. A flicker of movement lazily drew her eyes to her curtains, twirling and dancing with staccato form. Beyond them, faint moonlight glowed gently, casting baby glows on the stone outline of her window. Dust particles floated gently, suspended in the air, catching the light like faint pieces of glitter. Jenna watched them meander for a while, the warm lull of almost sleep comforting and soft.

Resting on the fine wooden nightstand, a pocket watch lay waiting. Jenna reached for it, thumbing the smooth surface open, straining ever so slightly to read the ornate hands. 4am. She ran her hands along the cool metal, holding it above her. The golden chain curled and looped around her fingers, drooping lazily between the spaces. Jenna swallowed thickly, the dryness of her throat finally pulling her out of her drowsiness. Sitting up, she gave the watch a final squeeze before placing it tenderly on her nightstand. With a quiet heave, she stood, and crossed the smooth stone and rug flooring, the chill nipping at her feet. 

She reached her small sink, barely a water basin and some old rags. The filtered moonlight accenting the corners and edges, just enough for her eyes to piece together the shape and reach for a small lever. Pushing down on it yielded nothing, but after a few heartbeats, a small but steady stream of water trickled out of a smooth spout, collecting in the basin. Putting a palm sized weight on it to keep the water flowing, Jenna cupped her hands under the spout, relieving her dry mouth and after a second thought, splashing some onto her face. Stopping the flow, she removed the last dregs of sleep from her face and dried off. 

She gripped the basin with a quickly becoming white knuckled grip, a plan of action tumbling through her. Quiet mutterings barely audible passed her lips, eyes staring into the faint dripping of the spout, completely unfocused. She ran her plan though her head, over and over and over, feeling it stitch itself together at the seams.

Time passed solidly but silently, the moon taking its leave and wielding to the pale pinks and creams of the young sun. Stubborn stars squatted in their places, even as the daytime animals and insects roused themselves, their lilting voices a cheerful melody. Light pushed past the seafoam curtains, bleeding along the floor and walls, sponging themselves onto every texture and furniture of the room. In the corner of it all, Jenna stood. She stared at her wall, gaze firm and resolute. Everything was ready. 

\---------------------------------------------

Breakfast was a bustling affair in the Karasu kitchens, servants gliding from station to station, their faces not unlike hardened soldiers. Jenna weaved between them, worriedly pressing her pitch blue cloak to herself, not wanting to get it dirty or to get it in the way of the buzzing cooks. Several lean cooks, all clad in soft neutral colored linens, stirred at separate cauldrons of broth with intensity, the spiced aroma making Jenna acutely aware of her morning hunger. Cooks and servants prepared meals for the entire day, some rolled and layered dough with flour-white hands, no doubt making flaky and buttery biscuits, some chopped a colorful assortment of vegetables, neat cubes of it getting used for multiple dishes, while others took stock of teas and spices. 

Jenna steadily marched her way to where breakfast was being made, the scent of honey-glaze and pork watering her mouth. A broad shouldered cook was cutting thick slices of bread, its loaf covered in raisins and seeds. A thick haired servant took several plates loaded with lemongrass and grilled fish in one large silver platter. Another carried two trays full of juices, some of them Jenna recognized as apple and orange, as well as a juice from a native fruit, a deep purple thing with a light and almost tart flavor. 

Finally she caught sight of who she was looking for, an olive skinned servant with long waves of black hair, currently pinned up and hidden under a cap. 

“Akumi!” Her call caused the other to turn slightly, deep lichen eyes widening as her face split into a grin. 

“Jenna! Hey! Whatcha doing down in the belly of the beast?” Akumi teased lightly, wiping her hands on a rag before patting them dry on her apron. Jenna scoffed and lightly bumped shoulders with her, rolling her eyes. Akumi giggled heartedly before crossing her arms over her chest, eyes narrowed playfully. 

“Where you off to, huh? You need something don’t you?” Jenna let out something along the lines of a counter, before Akumi held up her hand in front of her. “S’ no use Jean-a, I know you too well, and you-” this was punctuated by a playful flick on Jenna’s forehead, “-don’t visit lil’ old me unless you need something.” 

Jenna pouted, “that’s not true, I visit all the time!” Akumi gave a non-committal hum, nodding to Jenna’s cloak and boots.

“Those look like mission clothes Jean-a, don’t lie to me,”

“Maybe I just wanna wear these today,”

“If you had the option you’d wear the same blouse and trousers until you wrinkled,”

“That-” Jenna opened her mouth to object, finger raised, but drew a blank. “You know what that’s-you’re not wrong, _but_ I did want to visit you today.” Mirth glittered in Akumi’s eyes and she relented with hands of surrender. 

She stooped to check on some palm sized rolls, crusts looking golden brown and crunchy. Standing, she handed Jenna a roll, it’s body cut down the middle and stuffed with shredded beef. Jenna took it graciously, bowing lowly and miming kissing her friend's feet. 

As she ate the morsel, the crust crunchy and buttery, the meat rich and salty, she hardly noticed when Akumi pressed a satchel into Jenna’s hand, or when she was led out of the kitchen and down into an empty room. 

Jenna was pulled back into the real world when she registered firm arms wrapping her in a tight hug. Returning the embrace, Jenna felt her jaw clench.

“How long are you going to be gone?” Akumi murmured softly, not letting go. 

“I don’t know, I think at most three months.” 

Akumi was quiet for a bit, then she detached herself from the hug and took Jenna’s hands in her own. She studied her face, eyes soft. “You’re not happy about it are you Jean,” the whisper came as a statement. Jenna felt her eyes burn, and feeling pathetic, she shook her head. She wanted to spill her soul to her friend, but her missions were something she could never divulge. Regardless, Akumi seemed to understand, squeezing her hands comfortingly. 

“Kinzoku?” 

Jenna ground her teeth, before nodding stiffly, her eyes on her lap. Her friend let out a quiet hiss, swearing under her breath.

“I’m sorry Jean,”

“I know Kumi,”

“Hey,” Jenna looked up into Akumi’s green eyes, a look of fire and warmth in them. “I know you Jenna, you’ll do what’s right. I believe in you,” 

Tears collected in the corners of her eyes and she bit her lip and gave Akumi a wobbly smile. The servant took her response in stride and lightly punched her shoulder, standing up briskly. 

“You better not die out there Jean-a, I need someone to mooch goods off of!” She teased, a playful grin quirking her lips. And if her eyes had tears, Jenna didn’t mention them. 

\---------------------------------------------------

As Jenna was tacking up a horse, a white and brown Pinto named Pippin, the stable doors were opened and the sound of quick footsteps passed by her stall. Slipping the leather harness on, Jenna peered over the stall gate, letting out a strangled noise when she noticed who it was. 

Zhang didn’t seem to notice her, their form stiff and eyes dead set on scanning all the mounts. They donned the same deep blue cloak Jenna did, a pair of stiff grey slacks, and some worn but sturdy looking brown working boots. At second glance, Jenna spotted a bright bandana tied around their leg, and even quicker, she noticed the gleaming hilts of a pair of sheathed knives. 

“Quit your staring Johal, you’re making me think I got stuff on me,” Zhang mumbled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind their ear, still not looking in her direction. 

“Ah, sorry, I was just,” Jenna trailed off awkwardly, making vague hand motions while Pippin snorted besides her. Zhang chuckled at her and flashed her a smirk, “Even Pippin is laughing at you,” 

Zhang crossed the stalls to reach up and pet a Rowan stallion. Jenna let out an indignant huff and scowled at the mare. Pippin shook her mane but otherwise ignored Jenna, making Zhang snort from where she was adjusting the straps of the stallion’s saddle. Jenna led Pippin out of her stall, muttering to the horse about not having her back. “Traitorous overgrown pony,” She mumbled as she mounted the obsenly tall mare. 

Soft clip clops behind her alerted Jenna to Zhang making their way up next to her, one hand fisting their horse’s reins. 

“Which way’s you headed?” Jenna started conversationally, mentally running through her food stock; half a dozen rolls, two apples, a pouch of cashews, a fist sized canteen of water, and a pair of chocolates, the latter most likely slipped by Akumi. 

Zhang let out a hum, and shrugged “Hōseki,” 

Jenna snorted and shot a look at the dark haired spy, “No shit, I didn’t know that,” 

Zhang barked a laugh and looked at her fully, “I’m going down this path and then taking the side roads along the most south based river until I get to Hōseki,” 

“Hōskei’s pretty far, isn’t it? Definitely farther than— father than where I’m off to,” Jenna pretended she didn’t notice the questioning look Zhang shot her. She mentally ran though the rest of her supplies, and absentmindedly stroked Pippin’s blond mane. 

“So what’s your full name?” Zhang broke the silence, startling Jenna into looking at them.

“Eh, uh Jenna. Jenna Johal,” 

“Mm, you ride often? Horses I mean,” 

“Ah, not really? Just occasionally when I get the chance, why?” 

Zhang gave her a pained look, “the mood here is awkward as fuck, I’m trying to cut it,” 

They meddled into light conversation after that, straying on the side of easy topics, the mood becoming lighter and more amicable. Their horses trotted along until the sun was past its high point, at which Zhang, no, Min, gave their goodbyes and well wishes and took their stallion along a different path. 

Jenna continued in silence, letting the warmth of the sun calm her, the rhythmic hoof steps and breaths of Pippin soothing. She stopped a few times at a creek to let her horse drink, and to nibble on an apple, mind wandering to her plan, picking at it for lint and mentally ironing out any wrinkles. 

Finally, as the sun was setting, she and Pippin made the climb over a hill, where they looked down on the stone walls of Karasu, and beyond to the rolling hills where the poor lived and even further to the uninhabited forests. A breeze whistled by, blowing Pippin's mane and Jenna’s hair, and with determination pumping through her veins, Jenna took the reins firmly, and began to gallop down and out of the city, streaking past the walls. 

Her mission had finally begun.


	4. Drabble- Kingdom AU (Being Retconned)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short drabble for the Kingdom AU, ft. the young Crowne Prince Kevin and his knight Bryce.

“What the hell is your problem!” Kevin nearly jolted at the forceful slam of the door. Axel glared at him from the entrance, eyes hooded and fist clenched. His cheek was beginning to purple from earlier. The room felt heavy, tension crackling enough to set a fire. Kevin began pacing the room, teeth grinding so hard he felt his jaw tweak. He whirled around a stabbed a finger into Axel’s chest, eyes furious. 

“What is your issue with her!” He spat out the words like acid. Distantly he knew he should try to be rational, but his temper had finally blown over.

Axel glowered at him, shoving his hand off of him and snarling, “I don’t trust her. I haven’t since first day she appeared at our gates.” He spoke lowly, eyes staring daggers into Kevin. The former made a noise of incredulity, before spitting out “You have _no_ proof of anything! You can’t just go around and accuse people of things they haven’t done! She is our _guest_ , and I don’t understand why you’re so hellbent on treating her like she’s a wanted criminal!” 

Axel threw up his hands and leveled him a glare. Kevin felt his temper spike even higher, Axel was looking at him like he was an idiot, and he _wasn’t_ in the mood for it. “How many times do I have to tell you, people like her are no good! You can’t let people into your life like this, they’ll only hurt you!” 

“That’s not for you to decide! You can’t just assume every person I meet wants to use me!” 

Axel was the one pacing the floor now, gesticulating wildly, motions near frantic. “I can’t not! I’m responsible for you! She’s _not_ good for you!”

Kevin let out a near shout, freezing the other in his place. “You—” he seethed, “are _not_ my parent. You don’t get to decide who’s good for me and who’s not. You aren’t responsible for me. I’m not a helpless idiot. I’m 19 goddamn years old and I _know_ I can take care of myself, I don’t need you to do it for me.” 

Axel let out a clipped laugh, voice strained, “You don't need me?! How many times have I dragged you out of the hellhole you dug yourself into?! How many times have I let you cry on my shoulder huh?! How many times have I put you back together after every manipulative asshole has strung you apart and thrown you away?! Guess what kid, you’re still young. And you’re still learning. And until you prove that you’re not going to keep falling into stupid traps I’m not going to stop worrying about you.”

“I never asked you to do that! Any of that! Those were all _my_ choices! You can’t protect me from the world!”

“I did it because I care about you!”

Kevin’s fist met a stoned wall, pain reverating from his knuckles. “If you cared about me you’d let me _learn_ from my actions instead of hiding me from them!” His face felt hot, like all his anger and frustration and emotions finally all bubbled to the surface and pooled under his skin, dripping from his pores like toxic wine. His voice took on a desperate tone. 

“If you can’t protect yourself from a goddamn street hustler then how the hell are you supposed to protect an entire kingdom? Every “learning mistake” you make reflects on you and your people. If you want their blood on their hands then so, be, it,” The words cut like ice. 

Kevin doesn’t know how it happened. One second he was across the room, the next he was fisting the coarse fabric of Axel’s shirt, venom oozing from him. 

“You, will _not_ disrespect me like that.” Axel’s face paled slightly, Kevin’s presence a thick cloud of pure rage. “I am the Prince of Kinzoku and you _will_ treat me as such. Do not _ever_ insinuate that I’m going to get my people killed. Don’t _ever_ say that. Don’t you dare—” His lip curled; “tell me what I can and can not do, you have _no_ right or authority. I don’t care what your problem is with her, but you will treat her with the utmost respect and decency as both our guest and as a human being. If I so much as hear that you’ve done otherwise I’ll throw you out myself.” He threw him to the floor then, the other staring wide eyed and shocked. “Do I make myself clear Sir Bulté?” Axel flinched as if burned. 

Slowly, he rose to his feet. The glitter of frenzied anger flashed in his eyes, but his mouth kept firmly shut. He stiffly walked to the door, jaw tense. 

_“Do I make myself clear?”_ Axel, threw a look over his shoulder, and they held eye contact. After a collection of heartbeats, Axel replied, voice hoarse and hand with a white knuckled grip on the door frame. 

“Yes Your Majesty.” 

The door slammed, rattling the contents of a shelf, though it paled to the power dynamic and trust that was just tipped on its side.


	5. Abandoned Work- The Testing AU: Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based on the novel series "The Testing"

_White walls, white floors. Spotless matte black desks. A perfectly sharpened pencil resting in the right hand corner._

_‘You’re gonna do great,’ lithe fingers sign below the table. A small grin on a warm face._

_A purple clad woman enters, ridgely holding a stack of papers. Her face is stony. Green eyes. Traces of uneven makeup over her left cheek._

_‘You too, good luck,’ his fingers respond in tandem, shaking with featherlight tremors._

\--------------------------------------------

_White walls, white floors. The table drips. A perfectly sharpened pencil discarded and torn at the eraser, rolling off the right hand corner._

_His fingers are wet. Red. Words tumble and bubble from his lips, the room dipping and swaying to the melody of his unshed tears._

_A small pained noise from below him. Hands grip his, slippery and cold to the touch. Eyes wide like saucers. Another pair of hands, stronger, warm. Pulling him back by the shoulder._

\--------------------------------------------

_Beige walls, tiled floors. Tables line the room. Teens near his age sitting in groups, plates piled with food._

_“We’re the Dixon Boys!” A strong arm over his shoulder, a head knocking against his lightly._

_Laughter, light and bright around him. Honey colored eyes winking at him. Ink colored hair thrown over one shoulder, a tattoo flashing briefly, something angular._

_The smell of exotic foods. Tantalizing._

_A heavy table under his fingertips, texture smooth but undulating._

\--------------------------------------------

_Beige walls, a carpeted floor. A round coffee table sits comfortably at the center. Mugs of coffee and milk rest on it’s overly polished surface._

_“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re excited,” a teasing voice. Curly dyed hair, pulled into a high ponytail._

_“I am,” his voice dipped into a whisper. Hands on a coarse fabric, a weight on his shoulder._

_Inside an unyielding building, rising high with elaborate arches and a pristine exterior. A hand ghosted his arm, stormy eyes meeting his. A slow nod._

\--------------------------------------------

_Open air, packed dirt ground. Everything telling of decrepitness._

_Ground crunching under his boots. Gloved hands gripping the pistol. Open terrain, littered with crumbling stone structures, half formed and slouching._

_His backpack is heavy. He wouldn’t be able to run far with it on. The bracelet on his wrist is a cold reminder._

_He needed to find them. They had a plan._

\--------------------------------------------

_Wind whipped past him, rock racing past his eyes. He was weightless._

_He could stay here. Uncaring of the roaring water below. It would be contaminated. There could be beasts or candidates down there._

_A scream broke though. Eyes so wide the entirety of the iris showed. Panic etched into every line of their face._

_He reached for his back pocket._

\--------------------------------------------

## REWIND

\--------------------------------------------

“— _in...vin_...Kevin!” A pair of tanned hands shook him by the shoulders. Kevin huffed and snorted, burying his face into the crook of his elbow and attempting to kick his friend in the shins. At the answering laughter, the corners of his mouth twitched upward.

M’tired man,” he groaned. He heard a snort from somewhere to his left and a sudden weight draped across his back. _‘Shit!’_ Scrambling awake, Kevin scrabbled into a seated position, throwing off the person. He turned to glare daggers at Ryan, who smirked in response. Two pairs of hands heaved him up, both faces grinning at him. “Fuck was that for?”

“Don’t care,” Ryan’s grin went wide, caramel eyes full of humor while he shrugged. Bryce mock-scowled at the blond, though his eyes betrayed fondness.

The wiry boy turned to Kevin. “We’re gonna be late!” He exclaimed, gesturing to himself, at the traditional red suit he wore. Kevin blanched, gaze darting between both his friends and their similar ceremonial wear. 

“Graduation! Shit!” At his horror, Ryan threw his head back with a laugh, while Bryce stifled his snickers behind a fist. They both quickly ushered him from his desk, Ryan’s pale hands ripping open his closet door open. Together they threw together a decent outfit for the brunette, before leaving his room. 

Kevin dressed quickly, threading his hands through his hair in a vain attempt to wrangle it into order. Not three minutes later the trio sprinted from Kevin’s house, throwing goodbyes to his parents, who opted to stay home. The sprint to the town square was a rocky one, with Ryan stumbling over his formal shoes, swearing at the undone laces. 

Soon the cheering and whooping of dozens of people reached their ears, and they nearly ran face-first into a swarm of pink suits and dresses. _‘Underclassmen,’_ Kevin’s brain supplied helpfully. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Bryce, who was pulling on his suspenders with a growing nervousness. Kevin reached over and grabbed him by the elbow, startling the lanky boy into meeting his eyes. He flashed him a reassuring thumbs up, before tugging on a tuft of Ryan's hair. The shorter boy yelped, flipping Kevin off. 

Ignoring their protests he led them to the stage, where the rest of their class gave the trio looks of relief. Bryce began muttering apologies to those within earshot, while Ryan attempted to look dignified as he was pulled along by his hair. They reached their collective spots at the back of the class, and after what felt like nothing at all, Graduation began. 

\--------------------------------------------

“I have the pleasure to call forth six members of this year’s Graduating Class. These individuals have proven themselves as outstanding among their peers, and us officials at Tosu City have decided to put forth our resources to six graduates on this day. May Bryce Bulté, Eric Cunningham, Ava Hensley, Kevin Roblejo, Ryan Santillo, and Lia Torres step forward?” 

Kevin’s head snapped up at his name. Shock burst from his chest. _‘I got chosen? For The Testing?’_ His legs moved robotically, eyes wide and locked onto the woman at the head of the stage. She was willowy, with bright red hair pulled into a tight bun. The deep purple jumpsuit she wore caught his eye, the outfit of every Tosu City official. 

Beside him, a petite girl with cropped blond hair stared forward into the crowd, her red layered dress rippling with her movements. On his other side, Bryce was grinning, his eyes watery. Kevin flicked him gently, signing quickly. 

_‘You’re gonna cry in front of the whole Colony you big baby,’_

The brunette pouted at him, signing back. _‘Shut up, In going through it right now,’_

They turned their attention back to the official as she began to speak again. “Each of you has our entire faith that you will succeed. With your sacrifice you will be making the honorable steps forward to rebuilding our world and bettering the Commonwealth as a whole.” She turned to look into everyone’s eyes. 

Kevin felt a chill run down his spine. Her eyes were cold, bitter and frosted. The rest of her face was sunny and bright, and as she looked at him her voice didn’t change from the one previous, full of pride and joy. 

“Congratulations on being chosen for The Testing,”


End file.
